


Take Me Into Your Loving Arms

by SomeSleepySloth



Category: Boyfriend Material - Alexis Hall
Genre: Communication, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeSleepySloth/pseuds/SomeSleepySloth
Summary: Because even the best couples have fights.Oliver and Luc will fight too, but this is a snapshot of how the boys work it out.
Relationships: Oliver Blackwood/Luc O'Donnell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	Take Me Into Your Loving Arms

"You never spend time at home anymore!" Luc shouts, he hates fighting; he still has flashbacks of those times his parents would yell at each other when he was a child, loud enough to be heard through his bedroom door. Even with his small hands cupped over his ears to drown out the noise. 

So he tries to avoid it, but the rage has been simmering inside him for a while now. He had been trying to work through it, because he doesn't want to start a fight with Oliver. Not when he knows how much of a rough time his boyfriend is having at work, being in line for a promotion and all. He tries to be sympathetic; being a bigshot lawyer probably takes more effort than working for CRAAP.

He'd come home today, exhausted after being hounded by Rhys all day about why there are ticks that are Tokking. Cuddles used to be the perfect cure for it, one dosage of Oliver Cuddles as recommended by Dr Luc. Except, those are scarce now. Because Oliver is off defending some poor minor who got caught up in bad company and got embroiled in a spate of robberies around Brixton. 

Luc  _ cannot _ possibly begrudge Oliver for his busyness. Except, Oliver has been working late. They used to catch up over dinner after a long day at work, Luc experimenting with vegan substitutes so they could enjoy the same meal. Oliver would make the most amazing noises as he bit into the vegan burger. But they haven't done that in nearly a fortnight. Oliver would trudge back home at ten, the dinner gone cold by then. And he'd heat it up in the microwave, poring over his briefs while shovelling the food in his mouth mindlessly.

And Luc has returned home to an empty flat for nearly a fortnight. You know what, fuck that, Luc thinks. He pops by the nearest Tesco, goes to grab the greasiest bacon, storms back home, and dishes up a meal of bacon and eggs for himself. He is getting ready to bite into his dinner, when Oliver walks through the door. "Hello Luc, did you make dinner?" he asks, the weariness that he had been wearing on his face nearly evaporating at the thought of a hot meal with his boyfriend.

"Uh...," the fork with bacon speared on it is hovering mid-air. Luc... well... Luc's brain has evidently decided to flee his skull at this inopportune moment.

Oliver slides off his shoes by the shoe rack and pads towards the dining table. He steps closer to the dining table and peers at Luc's plate. "Oh, you made bacon and eggs...," his tone conveying both surprise and disappointment. "Err... did you cook something else for me then? Is it in the kitchen?" he asks with a hopeful expression.

And Luc doesn't want to dash that hope. Because he's had a fucking rubbish day, he just wants a quiet night. But fuck if he is going to stand for Oliver expecting him to prepare a piping hot meal everyday, ready for The Right Honourable Oliver Blackwood to tuck into when he comes home from work. As if Luc himself didn't also have to bust his arse off at work. 

He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, puts his fork back on the table. "No Oliver, I did not cook anything else for you," Luc says, with a hard edge to his voice.

"Oh..." There it is again, that disappointed  _ oh. _

"Oliver. I did not cook anything else for you, because I didn't know what time you would be back. Or if you would even come back." Luc speaks, slowly but clearly.

Oliver's brows furrow at that. "What do you mean, if I will even come back?" he hedges. Luc knows him well enough that he is certain Oliver is just trying to buy time while processing the question. If you need to buy some time, ask the defence council to elaborate or clarify. Except, this is  _ not  _ the fucking court. This is their house. And Luc isn't a bloody defendant on trial. He is Oliver's boyfriend.

When he continues to glare at Oliver coldly, it sets Oliver on the defensive. "Hey," he starts hesitantly, "you know I will always come back. This is our home. Where else would I go?"

"Really, your home?" Luc comments, the sarcasm thick in his voice, "Well, colour me surprised, I didn't know that. And do you know why? It is because, YOU NEVER SPEND TIME AT HOME ANYMORE!"

At the end of the tirade, Luc is panting harshly, he hadn't even realise there was that much rage simmering inside of him. But it had apparently hit its boiling point today, and now Oliver is bearing the brunt of it. 

When Luc sees Oliver's shellshocked face, the guilt starts sinking in,  _ fuck _ , what had he just done. fuck fuck fuck. Did he just fuck this relationship up again. Oliver was the best thing he had had in a while. fuckity fuck. Did he fuck it all up again. why was he such a fuck up. 

Those thoughts were echoing in his mind, getting louder and louder, and over the loud thudding of his heart, he couldn't think straight. Luc jerks to his feet, sending the chair crashing to the floor as he flees for sanctuary in the bathroom. Once there, he locks it, and sinks down to the floor. Fingers rake through his hair, tugging on the ends, verging on painful, and maybe he deserves it, after overreacting and blowing up at Oliver. His nails dig harshly into his scalp, but he can barely feel the pain, because his heart is twisting at the thought of being the one to destroy the best thing in his life, tearing it apart with his bare hands.

Luc knows Oliver is coming, can hear the thuds of his footfalls against the wooden flooring. He smiles wryly at that, their flat hunt had taken the better part of two months, because his Oliver, his posh twat of a boyfriend, had insisted that  _ no, we will not live in a flat with carpets, do you know how much dirt gets trapped in there?! _

They had argued about that, but it had been resolved easily; both men had taken a couple days' of leave to view more flats to speed up the flat hunting process. But... Luc has no idea what will happen. Was this an argument they could get back from? He didn't mean for that outburst to happen. 

"Luc?” Oliver calls out, his fist knocking gently on the door, once. Then twice, thrice, increasingly desperate as Luc refuses to make a sound. Partly out of stubbornness, and partly out of shame. And he is reluctant to open the door, not if it is to hear Oliver say "it's over". At least with the door shut now, it's like Shrödinger's Relationship. Without opening the door, his relationship is both alive and dead at the same time. Huh maybe he was indeed spending too much time if he was spouting such geeky gibberish.

The knocks on the door finally cease. "Luc, I know what you are thinking, but, no, I love you, we are not breaking up. If you need more time to think, then you can stay in the bathroom longer, but I will be waiting out here for you alright?" Oliver tells him quietly, a hint of weariness in his voice. 

And Luc nearly collapses with relief at that. Thank goodness he hadn't fucked it all up completely. But his lingering embarrassment at that awful one-sided shouting match still haunts him. And he really doesn't know how to face Oliver. But his arse is getting a bit sore on the cold tiles of the bathroom. Time to face the music.

Luc gets up from the floor, wearing an expression of grim determination, like a soldier readying for battle.

He slinks out of the bathroom quietly; Oliver has changed out of his suit into his flannel pyjama pants, forgoing the shirt. There are papers spread all over their bed, Oliver frowning at them, as if trying to intimidate the answer to stop hiding in the paper. Luc cautiously approaches the bed and perches himself precariously on the edge to avoid accidentally crumpling any of Oliver's briefs. He ransacks his brain to try and think of what to say to break the awkward tension. Because Oliver is either waiting for Luc to speak first, or he is simply that engrossed in his perusal of those briefs.

"Excuse me, but I think my briefs are the only one you should be examining, m'luhd," Luc casually comments, silently berating his brain for thinking that a pickup line is an appropriate conversation starter. Well, it would be usually, but not now, when Luc is trying to grovel and beg for forgiveness.

Oliver... well, Luc wouldn't call it a snort, because Oliver is far too dignified to actually snort, but it sounds eerily close to the noise a pig makes. Not that Luc is going to point it out. "Really, a pick-up line, Lucien?" Oliver remarks, arching that elegant brow of his. He sighs when Luc doesn't reply, playing with the edge of a piece of paper beside him, avoiding his gaze.

Oliver reaches out with a hand to still Luc's fingers, collecting the papers into a loose stack, unheeding of the order it is in. Apparently Luc isn't the only one who is affected by this argument, if Oliver is storing his papers haphazardly. When the papers have finally been stored away in the briefcase lying by the bedside, Oliver pulls Luc to sit properly on the bed, and positions him such that both men are now sitting cross-legged, facing each other. 

Eye contact was something that Oliver liked when they were talking, it was something that Luc had built up to as their relationship developed. In the early days, Oliver would allow Luc to hide in the bathroom, hiding behind the safety of the wooden door. Luc had gotten over his fear of heart to heart conversations gradually, graduating to facing each other as they held these conversations. But there are still days when these insecurities haunt him, like today. Luc lowers his head to stare at the duvet, hmm maybe it is time to change the sheets., before Oliver's hand gently tilts his head up to look him in the eye.

"Lucien," he sighs out.

"I'm sorry Oliver. I didn't mean to shout at you. I just..." Luc trails off awkwardly, not knowing how to continue.

"Lucien," Oliver breathes out, "I am sorry. Sometimes, I forget that I have someone at home waiting for me. And lose myself in work. This is not your fault. I am sorry that I have been neglecting you for the past fortnight. I know we have been dating for a while, but sometimes, just sometimes, it slips my mind. And I fuck up. I will try my best to remember, but if I don't, you can yell at me, and remind me what a prize idiot I am being."

"Do my ears deceive me? Did The Right Honourable Oliver Blackwood just curse?" Luc drawls out teasingly.

Oliver just shakes his head in amusement, and yanks at Luc hard, sending his boyfriend tumbling into his lap. "You are such an idiot," Oliver mutters into Luc's ear, the hot breath tickling his ear. Lucien giggles, and tucks himself closer into Oliver's warm body. 

"Luc," Oliver infuses a hint of urgency into his voice, "you are my first boyfriend in a long time, and hopefully, the only one i will have in a long time as well, i want to be a good boyfriend for you, so you have to talk to me. Talk to me, and I promise you, I will listen to you, always. I love you, never forget that. No matter what arguments we have, I need you to remember that I love you."

"I love you too," Luc whispers into the crook of Oliver's neck, softly, but Oliver still hears it, and that is all that matters.

Oliver pulls Luc back, brushes his tousled brown locks out of his eyes, and peers at him cautiously, as if he didn't dare believe that Luc's anger was extinguished so easily. Luc intertwines his fingers with Oliver's, playing with it in his lap, as he mulls over what to say. "I didn't mean to blow up at you. And I promise that I will try to communicate better. Relationships take effort, and I want to put in the effort to make it work too."

"That's all I want to hear. We are in this for the long haul, so we need to work together." Oliver squeezes Luc's hands comfortingly.

"We will," Luc wiggles his pinky finger in front of Oliver and waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously, "pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," Oliver says with the solemness of a man about to sign a million dollar contract, as he hooks his pinkie firmly around Luc's. 

Luc is about to suggest they turn in early after the emotionally draining night they have had when a loud growl shatters the silence. He looks up to see Oliver blushing. "I might have also skipped lunch?" Oliver explains sheepishly. When Luc gives him a flat stare, Oliver holds up his hands in surrender. Luc sighs, "Come on, let's go for some kebab, I am sure they are open. I am feeling rather peckish and -”

Oliver tugs Luc into another hug, soaking in the feel of his boyfriend against him after the exhausting day he has had at work. A dose of Luc cuddles was what he needed now, food can wait. He has to get his daily snuggles in first.

"Get your own chips. Stop trying to steal mine," Oliver will say, fork darting out to stop his thieving boyfriend from stealing another chip. "Not my fault you are such a slow eater!" Luc will banter back, taking advantage of Oliver's distraction to sneak off a fry, sticking his tongue out childishly.

And Oliver will make a token objection, not that he really minds. Because he had gotten the large chips precisely because he knew of Luc's penchant for swiping food off Oliver's plate.

But for now, Oliver holds Luc tight, he is never letting this man go, not now, not forever.


End file.
